


We Can't

by Resmiranda



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, So much kissing, military regulations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 09:21:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20112781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resmiranda/pseuds/Resmiranda
Summary: “We can’t.”“We can’t.”“Eren, we can’t.”Eren was so sick of those words.





	We Can't

**Author's Note:**

> (Sorry for the double-post. I messed something up and it was easier to delete and repost)
> 
> Surprise Ereri 2019! I actually wrote a third of this five years ago and just never finished it. So I did my best to slap an ending on it and here it is. I can't call it my favorite work (the premise is a bit of stretch, and tbh that's why I never finished it years ago; plz don't look at it too closely LOL), but I think stories that never see the light of day are sad so... have this angsty canonverse with made up regulations thing I did!
> 
> There are a lot more Feelings™ in this than I anticipated. Loosely set wherever you want it to be in canonverse--I left it vague on purpose--but I personally like to think of it set in later events of the manga.
> 
> Also, I have a multi-chap Mass Effect fic coming out hopefully before the year ends, so keep an eye out for that if that's your jam. I'm actually pretty proud of and excited for that one. I may clean up a couple other WIP one-shots and toss them up here for fun.
> 
> Hope you all are well!

“We can’t.”

“We can’t.”

“Eren, we can’t.”

Eren was so fucking sick of those words.

_ “We can’t._”

Sometimes soft, sad. Sometimes angry. Pleading. Every so often Eren would even go so far as to name the color of the words _ desperate. _ Ironically, Eren liked hearing desperation the most. It was the feeling he swam in, and it was damn refreshing to know he wasn’t the only one feeling that way. At least some of the time.

“It’s not that I don’t want to.”

And it wasn’t that they were both male. Same-sex relationships were encouraged, in fact. Especially after the fall of Wall Maria. They helped keep the birth rate down, which was crucial given the mass loss of territory humanity had suffered. Even reclaimed, it would take years to restore the cities to what they had been.

“We’re in the military, Eren.”

The military.

The organization Eren had wanted to join his whole life. The organization he _ needed _ to join after the fall of Shinganshina. Now it was blocking his way to something else he wanted. Possibly needed. He hadn’t gotten the chance to find out.

It wasn’t that the brass was heartless, just realistic. It wasn’t even about rank. It was far simpler than that. People in relationships did stupid things for people they loved.

Thus, the rule for all members of the military since Maria fell was simple: No fraternizing.

Relationships skewed your judgment on the battlefield. Formations lost, rash actions, deeper grief. 

It was a wonder they still allowed siblings and friends to join up together. Of course, if they didn’t, there’d likely be no one left.

Obviously, this didn’t stop people from seeking to fulfill one of their most basic biological urges, but the consequences for being found out were severe and nonnegotiable: Discharge, with a heaping side of dishonor. No buts. No second chances. No “mistakes.”

No exceptions.

Ever.

Even in the Survey Corps. The group that most desperately needed every willing body they had.

A lot of soldiers didn’t care about the rule. Some of them purposefully got caught just to be released from service. Others cared a little, or a lot.

And then there were the ones that _ had _ to care. The ones most weighed down by duty. The ranking officers who were burdened by their obligation to, not only themselves, but all the soldiers they commanded.

Who would be lost without them.

Who would be dead without them.

Even amongst the officers, there were a special few that, not only soldiers, but all civilians turned eyes to.

Discharging one of them would be a blow to humanity.

But there were no exceptions.

And, really, it made sense. If a relationship wasn’t punished by the military, it was punished by the inevitability of early death. Eren had never had much interest in relationships for these reasons.

_ “We. Can’t._”

Eren heard his teeth grind that time.

Neither had meant for it to happen (really, who does?).

Levi figured he was fucked the day he agreed to take responsibility for the brunet boy with glowing eyes and rage to rival his own.

For Eren it was much more subtle. Levi placed a steadying hand on his shoulder after the catastrophic failure of the 57th Expedition. The touch made him nervous in a way that had nothing to do with his awareness of the man’s strength, or the fear that he was blamed for his squad’s death. As a blush rose to his cheeks, so did the knowledge that his admiration of Captain Levi might be a bit more than that.

For a long time it wasn’t a problem.

And then it was.

Frequently, in these times, love burst forth like an explosion. A counterbalance to the suddenness of a life snuffing out. They weren’t like that. There were plenty of close calls, but nothing triggered a momentous confession. Their feelings were kindled in the slow burn of time, growing bigger and brighter till they could not help but be noticed. And when he had finally worked up the nerve to say something, Levi had shut him down.

But it didn’t stop the looks.

Or the touches.

Or the _ feelings. _

So he kept asking. And Levi kept refusing, but never in a way that freed him. If he would say, “I don’t want to.” “I don’t like you.” “Fuck no, brat.” Anything that gave him a sense of finality.

But it was never any of those things.

It was, “We can’t.”

And so here he is. Outside Levi’s door. Again.

This is the last time. Eren has no more time. Tomorrow, everything will change.

He already knows how it will go.

He knocks anyway.

The door opens. Eren knew exactly where Levi’s face would appear, his eyes don’t have to adjust an inch. He is surveyed with not even a hint of surprise. The man just sighs, and nudges the door open a little more.

That is as much invitation as he is going to get.

Levi had, predictably, been indulging in an evening cup of tea. He retrieves a second cup in silence as Eren makes himself comfortable on a stool.

“Come to give me a headache, brat?”

Eren wants to smile, but doesn’t. His heart isn’t really in it. “Sorry, Captain. I just wanted to see you.”

The other man scoffs as he plunks himself down and begins pouring tea into a cup with a grace and gentleness that juxtaposes his personality. It tugs at Eren’s heart.

Levi sets the cup before Eren and returns to his own, picking it up in that odd way of his and taking a long drink. He watches Eren over the rim of his cup.

“You’ve seen me. Now what? Have another speech prepared?”

Staring down at his tea, Eren doesn’t answer immediately. He didn’t actually come here with any sort of plan this time. He meant what he said. He’d just wanted to see Levi one more time. Just in case he never got to again.

“Oi, Eren, you’re freaking me out. Say something, drink your tea, or get out. Watching you work up to a shit makes my skin crawl.”

Eren snorts, and finally raises his eyes, meeting Levi’s fondly. While meeting his hero had given him a bit of a shock at first, he unequivocally finds every one of the man’s quirks endearing. He doesn’t even mind excessive cleaning, if it is for his captain.

“Sorry. It’s just… It’s like I said. I just wanted to see you. We haven’t… gotten to talk much lately. I… miss it.”

Levi drops his eyes to where he is idly spinning his cup in a circle from the rim. 

“You’re talking like we’re already as good as dead.”

Eren bites his lips. He has always been terrible at lying, and Levi has a way of cutting to the heart of an issue anyway, no blades required.

They fall quiet. The only sounds are porcelain grating on wood and the fire crackling in the hearth.

Finally, “So, are you gonna ask me, Eren?”

Levi is looking at him now. Eren can feel it. His cold stare burns him.

“No.”

The spinning of the cup stops.

“Let me try that again. Ask me, Eren.”

Eren looks up, and flinches from the intensity he finds in Levi’s gaze. This is not the soft, slow, dance they’d been weaving around each other. This is fire and passion and _ fight. _ He looks ready to do battle.

“Ask me,” he grates.

Eren opens his mouth, but the words get stuck in his throat. He wishes he had taken a gulp of tea earlier. It somehow seems too late to do it now. He licks his lips and summons his courage. The way he had the first time.

“Captain, can—”

“No titles.” The harshness in Levi’s voice makes Eren wince. He doesn’t like this. “Ask _ me._"

If Eren’s mouth was dry before, it is parched now. It takes him a minute to work up the moisture to say anything at all.

“Levi,” he rasps, then swallows. The lump in his throat doesn’t budge. His heart won’t stop hammering. “Can we…” Eren finds he suddenly doesn’t know how to put this. Can’t remember the words. What had he even said the first time? He’d stopped trying to ask with words long ago.

He stands abruptly. The chair teeters, but ultimately settles behind him. Levi flicks a glance at it before the piercing gray-blue of his eyes return to Eren. Before Eren can overthink it, he marches around the table. Nothing on Levi’s face shifts, but Eren can feel his energy. It laps against him in waves. In years past, the ferocity of it would have made him take a step back. Instead he presses forward.

He drops to his knees, nearly head-height to Levi sitting. The other man doesn’t even blink. Eren dares to rest his palms on the other man’s thighs. Even through the material of his pants, Eren can feel the firmness of the muscle there. He wants…

“Can we…?” he leans forward, pleading. His hands unconsciously grip where they lay.

Levi’s words are whisper soft. “We can’t.”

Anger blooms in him like blood dropped into water. His hands contract into fists. He raises one, ready to punch this _ asshole _ in the face, when Eren feels rough pressure on his lips. He can’t see Levi anymore. Hands are clenched in the front of his shirt.

With an astonished gasp, he realizes what is happening and surges into the contact, clacking teeth in the process and probably making the whole thing a lot wetter than it needs to be, but Levi is _ kissing him_. Levi is moaning into his mouth and he can taste the maltiness of the tea he’d been drinking and all the fire that had been in his head relocates to his gut.

“Sh-it,” Levi pants between unrelenting kisses. “Eren! We—”

Eren rears back, fingers still knitted in Levi’s hair. “Levi I fucking _ swear _ if you say _ we can’t _ one more fucking—”

“We should move to the bed.”

The fight drains out of Eren as quickly as it had come. “Oh.”

“That means you have to move.”

“Right.” But Eren doesn’t budge. He was too busy looking at Levi, wondering, remembering. He can still feel the phantom press of lips against his own and has to wonder, _ “Why?” _

Levi fits him with a deadpan look that plainly asks _ really? _ Eren straightens his spine and wordlessly weathers the glare.

_ “Tch _ , you want to sit back and talk _ now?” _

That puts a crack in his resolve. The fear that if he doesn’t take what is offered and run with it immediately it might slip away rises in his throat like bile, but he wants to know. He unwinds his fingers from Levi’s hair and places them in his lap, waiting.

After what feels like an age, Levi sighs. “Fine. But let’s move to the bed anyways. If we’re gonna do this, might as well use it for something.”

Eren takes the proffered hand and is yanked onto his feet with such strength he stumbles into Levi. Sure hands catch him, but they don’t let go immediately. He looks into Eren’s eyes in a way that makes his breath catch. The fingers on his biceps trail their way down his arms before parting reluctantly so he can move around Eren.

Eren just stares after him, dumbfounded.

Looking thoroughly unimpressed, Levi hops onto the bed and settles against the pillows before turning his full attention back to Eren. “Get over here.”

The command shocks Eren into movement, even though it all still feels too surreal to be true. Numbly, he starts to crawl onto the bed, only to be slapped back by Levi.

“Shoes off.”

Eren looks down at the captain and realizes that he is, in fact, shoeless. Of course he is.

After several awkward moments of tugging and nearly falling over in the process, Eren wrestles his boots off and crawls past Levi to rigidly settle down next to him on the quilt. He keeps having to rangle his eyes from wandering the captain’s form. Levi had let him share a late night cup of tea before, but he’d never invited more. Any of Eren’s attempts to take more typically resulted in his ass being handed to him and a curt dismissal that he’d replay in his head for hours.

Now Levi looks… tired.

He’s seen Levi looking exhausted before, of course he has. But this is different.

Silence prevails.

Eren realizes Levi isn’t going to take the reigns in this conversation.

Overwhelmed by the feelings and sensations crashing into him, Eren clears his throat. He wants Levi _ so badly _ but he has to know, “Why now?”

Levi grunts in a way that could have been a laugh. “Who knows?”

Eren frowns. “That’s not an answer.”

Sharp eyes slide over him in a way that makes Eren shiver.

“Look, Eren.” Levi casts his gaze to the far corner of the room. His jaw works subtly in the intervening moments before his next words. Without noticing he’s doing it, Eren shifts closer.

Slowly, haltingly, Levi raises one hand. It hovers in the air, as though he’s unsure what to do with it now that it’s there, but in between one breath and the next, the back of his hand traces a path down the side of Eren’s face, pulling a shuddering breath from Eren’s lips.

“I—” He stops again, head tilting down so his hair partially obscures his face. “Words aren’t my strong suit. I have a feeling… I don’t know how to put it into words, but… Somehow it feels like we won’t have this chance again.” His narrow eyebrows dip, but his eyes shift back up to Eren. His voice, already low and soft, drops to a whisper, “I don’t want to regret.”

Eren’s breathing hitches. His eyes feel hot. Eren didn’t understand it, and yet he did. Levi’s answer wasn’t satisfying, but it was everything. A surprisingly gentle thumb brushes moisture from the corner of his eye, and Eren drives forward, accidentally bumping noses before finding lips. He can _ feel _ Levi inhale. He can feel _ everything _, as though all his nerves have been oversensitized and programed to respond to the man in front of him.

Levi groans.

Eren’s brain short circuits, and the next thing he knows, he is somehow on his back with Levi straddling him. It is simultaneously the hottest and most terrifying thing he’s ever experienced. Levi leans over him, presses into him, trails his lips along his neck and up to his ear where he breathes, “Can I…?”

Heart swelling to bursting, consumed by feeling, Eren turns his head and finds Levi’s mouth.

It is like tossing a match on oil.

Eren pushes into Levi, inadvertently swapping their positions. His hands are cradling Levi’s face, though he does not remember putting them there. The heat and wetness of Levi’s mouth feel so good he can hardly stand to part from them between one kiss and the next. Distantly, he understands why people become addicts, if their highs feel anything like this.

With a tremendous amount of will, he forces himself to sit up, just a little. Just enough to see Levi.

The sight steals Eren’s breath all over again.

Hair disheveled, a flush high in his cheeks, Eren thinks he almost looks the way he does after using 3DMG in winter. His hands trail up Levi’s sides, touching, awed.

How many times has he brought himself off to those images? How long has he dreamed of not just looking, but _ touching? _

He cups Levi’s cheeks again, continuously amazed that the picture before him stays stable and warm and _ real _ when he still expects it to burst like a pricked bubble at any moment.

Eren leans down to taste his lips once more, but this time it’s slower, deeper. He tries to follow Levi’s lead in mapping each other’s mouths, unexpectedly feeling the burn return to his eyes.

“I don’t want to regret,” he’d said. Will he, tomorrow?

He might.

Eren won’t.

No matter what happens tomorrow, or the days after, Eren will savor this memory. He will drink in every sound and sensation Levi will give him for this one night and hope it does not ruin them both. Even if it does, he won’t regret. He’s wanted this for too long.

Eren suspects it’s the same for Levi.

He pulls back again, tugging his lower lip from Levi’s teeth, and reverently presses a kiss into Levi’s cheek. Wetness trails along the side of his nose. Throat clogged with emotion, he whispers into Levi’s skin.

“We can.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am still on [Tumblr](http://resmiranda13.tumblr.com/) Sometimes™!
> 
> Please let me know if you catch any typos!


End file.
